


one (1) snowman

by bs13



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, just a little bit of fluff xo, snowy wintery fun ig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 19:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17147861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bs13/pseuds/bs13
Summary: Lena has never made a snowman before. (Kara, of course, takes it upon herself to show her the thrill of building one.)





	one (1) snowman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SuperfriendlyFox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperfriendlyFox/gifts).



> i’m in a little bit of a rush to post this omg (making tamales takes up too much time smh) but i was so happy to get a chance to pinch hit for this fic exchange ❤️
> 
> happy holidays everyone! i hope i did this fluff justice (insert peace sign emojis here)

It is exceptionally quiet this morning.

There is a distinct lack of a warm body against her back, and Lena supposes the absence is due to the world needing Supergirl; she doesn’t give it another thought before she shifts towards Kara’s side of the bed, burrowing into the fading warmth and dozing off once more.

That is, until she hears a faint _plink_ , _plink_ , _plink_ against the glass of the window.

Rainy mornings are a funny thing, Lena muses, rolling over to blink herself awake. She’s never been particularly fond of trudging through puddles and dealing with gray skies and humidity on her way to work, but Kara—Kara loves the rain. It means she’ll come back to the apartment with a water-slicked cape and frizzied hair, the scent of rain hanging onto her clothes as she kisses Lena hello.

Kara has somehow made her _long_ for rainy days, and as Lena sits up ready to face this one she is quite perplexed to find Kara seated at the windowsill.

Lena hugs the blanket tightly around herself at the sudden wash of cold air over her bare arms. “Kara?” she says. “What are you doing?”

“Hm?” Kara reluctantly pulls away from the window her face is pressed to, but she visibly brightens when she notices Lena. “Hey, you’re awake! Come see, it’s _snowing_.”

“Snowing?” Lena echoes. “It hasn’t snowed in National City in years.” She reluctantly drags herself out of the warm bed and comes to Kara’s side, shivering at the first touch of the cold hardwood floor.

It _is_ snowing. She’s faintly aware of Kara tugging her down to her lap, pressing a soft kiss between her shoulder blades, but Lena is so stunned by the sight of snow that she almost doesn’t notice.

The snow falling now only further blankets the winter wonderland below; it must have been snowing all night at this rate. Cars, buildings, and streetlights are buried under _inches_ of snow, not a mere spattering here and there like every other occasion it’s snowed.

“Isn’t it pretty?” Kara’s low voice against her jaw yanks her back. “The last time it snowed like this was so long ago.”

“I know,” Lena says, mystified. “I researched the weather extensively when I moved here for that reason.”

There is a smile pressed against her shoulder, next. “Are you sure you didn’t move to National City because, I don’t know, Supergirl came out?”

“Darling, I think it took you a _while_ to come out,” Lena quips, if only to reduce Kara to stammering,

“I _meant_ —”

“Oh, I know,” Lena giggles, tucking her feet up and feeling younger than she is. “I won’t lie, Supergirl, you intrigued me very much.”

That seems to make Kara puff her chest self-assuredly. “So you had a crush on me,” she says.

“Being intrigued by your sunny personality does not equate a _crush_ ,” Lena protests. “Though I did find you a bit attractive.”

“Only a bit?” Kara squeezes her closer, voice soft and low like she doesn’t really need this teasing game to go further. She sounds content, and Lena relaxes against her, feels the gentle fleeting pressure of lips against her temple.

“What was it like, the last time it snowed?” Lena finds herself asking.

“It was…years ago,” Kara says. “I don’t remember the exact date. But it reminded me so much of when it snowed in Midvale.” She takes a moment to laugh. “Alex hated me for it, but I dragged her to the park to make a snowman because I missed it. Two grown women building a _snowman_. It was pretty funny.”

“Mm.” Lena smiles at the thought. “You know, I’ve never made a snowman before.”  


“ _You_? Never?” Kara mock-gasps. “I’m shocked.”

“Make fun all you want,” Lena says, pretending to be miffed enough to elbow Kara lightly. “It’s the Luthor way to never have fun.”

“Poor baby Lena,” Kara sighs against her hair. “You had the worst childhood in the world.”

“I wouldn’t go as far to say that,” Lena huffs. “I don’t mind it now, but then…it sure hurt a lot then.”

Kara goes quiet for a suspicious minute. “I have an idea,” she says. “Get dressed, we’re going out.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Lena says, shifting so she can hook Kara around the neck with her arms. “You will not do that thing again.”

“What thing?” Kara tries to pout, but Lena stops her with two fingers to her lips.

“That thing,” she goes on, “where you take it upon yourself to recreate childhood memories you had and I didn’t. The Disney movie marathon was okay, the sleepovers were only decent because we had sex every time, but last time you tried this I had to explain to Jess _why_ there was an explosion of piñatas in my office.”

“Because you had never hit a piñata before!” Kara says, muffled because she can’t quite freely move her mouth.

“And I didn’t want the whole top floor to _know_ that. The last thing I need is a dozen articles tomorrow saying ‘Luthor heiress builds snowman in a park meant for children,’” Lena says firmly. “So no, I will not go build a snowman with you.”

Kara traps the hand over her mouth in a tight hold. “Lena,” she says. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“ _Yes_ , Kara, I do.”

“Then you understand,” Kara says, “that the idea of you having a bad memory associated with building a snowman is unacceptable to me. So will you pretty please let me try to change it?”

“That’s not—you don’t _have_ to do that,” Lena sighs. “It’s not your job.”

“But it’s something I, your loving girlfriend, want to do,” Kara says, stupidly remaining selfless and beautiful when she says stuff like that, and Lena hates how much she’s a sucker for it.

“…one snowman,” Lena relents, and the happy kiss smacked to her forehead is the enthusiastic reaction she gets.

Lena begrudgingly dresses in a warm enough thick jacket that Kara annoyingly is just fine without; she barely remembers to even put on a sweater before Lena reminds her.

It’s bitingly cold outside. Lena puts on the gloves Kara had insisted she bring and tries not to sulk _too_ much. She wants to make an effort, she does, and so she doesn’t complain when Kara drives them all the way to James’s house for the complete snowman-making experience. (“And so the press never knows,” Kara had joked.)

Once there Kara all but throws herself headfirst into the snowbanks, leaving Lena to greet James, apologize to James, and then tentatively make her way to the backyard as a wet, beaming Kara follows.

“You know, if we had a house we could have a yard like this,” Kara says, practically lost in packed ice as she attempts a snow angel.

Lena sits on the damp lawn chair James had cleared and tries not to roll her eyes. “We’re not getting a dog, Kara. I know that’s the only reason you want a house.”

“Not the _only_ reason,” Kara protests. “We could have a nice place for everyone to meet up like James does, too.”

“Our apartment is nice.” Lena hugs her arms, already deciding that snowy weather is even worse than rainy weather. “I thought we were here to build a snowman, not argue.”

Kara pops up out of the snow, looking a bit hurt. “We’re not arguing,” she says. “I’m sorry. Am I being pushy?”

“No, I…” Lena feels her shoulders sag with an equal apology. “No. I’m sorry. I’m being a bad sport. And I rather like your pushiness.”

“Okay.” Kara smiles, slow and relieved and all too innocent, so Lena adds:

“Especially in the bedroom.”

Kara’s mouth falls open. “ _Lena_ ,” she says, practically pained, “James is—I—” Apparently she loses the function to speak, but not the ability to blush. Hard. “So! The snowmen! We need to build them.”

“Snow _man_ ,” Lena says. “Right?”

“Right,” Kara repeats unconvincingly. She throws herself into digging in the packed snow, beckoning Lena closer with one hand. “Here. We need a large base to start, but we need three snow spheres in total.”

“I know, Kara. I’ve seen pictures.”

“Just covering my bases,” Kara wisecracks, patting the snowman base triumphantly, and Lena rolls her eyes to hide the burgeoning smile threatening to make itself known.

Alright, she’ll admit it’s a little bit fun. She helps Kara pack snow onto each sphere, but Kara does the heavy lifting and stacks them all together.

Even sitting in the cold snow, feeling water seep into her jeans, Lena doesn’t want to leave. This unnecessary—but very sweet—gesture has cheered her up when she didn’t even know she needed it. 

The truth is that Lena has never felt like she needs to make up for her past. For her family’s name, sure, but never for herself. She’s never cared much for the reminder of her poor childhood; it’s always been a nuisance she would rather forget. Besides…there is so much more to focus on for her present. And her future. A future that hopefully has Kara in it.

And so she _enjoys_ building the world’s ugliest snowman, the perfectionist in her smoothing the sides as best she can to make it look nicer. Her efforts make the spheres a bit cleaner, but the entire thing is still pretty lopsided and not very proportional.

In other words…it’s perfect.

“He needs eyes,” Kara says, slinging an arm around Lena’s shoulder as they step back to survey their work. “Ooh, I’ll steal a carrot from James’s fridge. Lena, find our son some eyes.”

“That is a very strange request, but alright,” Lena says. She steals a few smooth black stones off James’s decorative walkway, admitting to herself that she does rather like his backyard.

Kara comes back with three carrots—two in her hand, one in her mouth. “Want one?” she asks.

“No, I’m okay,” Lena says, both amused and endeared as Kara shoves another carrot to join the first in her mouth.

“Now here’s where the magic happens,” Kara whispers, crunching the last of her food away; she uses her freeze breath to make the stones stick, and then does the same for the carrot. “See? Now he’s not a pile of snow. He’s a snow _man_.”

“I see,” Lena plays along, tucking herself into Kara’s side to fondly survey the scene. Amongst the messy, snow-spotted yard, the tilting snowman looks right at home. “He takes after you, darling.”

Kara laughs, short and surprised, at the teasing. “If you say so,” she says, giving the edge of Lena’s jaw a kiss wet with snow. “I think he has your eyes.”

“Mm, I wouldn’t place a bet on that one,” Lena says. She catches Kara’s cheek for a proper kiss, grateful that no matter what heinous weather there is Kara is always warm. “Thank you. For doing this. I know I might have seemed a bit…resistant to the idea, but it was nice.”

Kara smiles, eyes dancing with that same kind of breathtaking love curled in the corners of her mouth, before she leans in to kiss Lena again. “I’d do anything for you,” she says. “For as long as you let me.”

“Then I hope you’re prepared for forever,” Lena dares to say. She feels a hot blush rush to her cheeks, feels raw hope and vulnerability course through her veins, and Kara—Kara only keeps on smiling.  


She quells any shred of insecurity Lena might have when she replies, “Sounds pretty good to me.”

It starts snowing lightly again but they stay out there anyway, just holding each other and watching the snowflakes fall. Lena has never seen anything more beautiful.

That is, until she remembers to ask, “Wait, will James mind that we took over his yard?”

A long pause follows. “Well,” Kara says thoughtfully, “he _must_ be dying over not being able to photograph the first snow in years in National City.”

“We’re terrible friends,” Lena says, and Kara half-laughs, half-hums in agreement. “Maybe we should get our own house. Just for this view.”  


“And…”

(Lena shakes her head, but she’s so happy she lets it slip anyway: “Okay, and _maybe_ a dog.”)


End file.
